A Hand Delivered Postcard
The next day, my luck changed.
My BFF from law school flew across the Atlantic Ocean to catch my show tonight.
And, of course. OF COURSE!
The three straight guys sitting in front of Miss Ratt got up and left halfway through.
Yes: they came expecting another show. Yes, it’s my own fault.
But I’m used to this.
I just hope Miss Ratt didn’t feel too terribly sorry for me.
After the show, she insisted my show was good — despite the very visible emptying of a third of my audience.
Miss Ratt is at a point in life where she can retire in a month. At this moment, she’s planning her next phase in life.
I won’t have that luxury: I won’t be able to retire, not this lifetime.
I guess I will just have to write mine as a fantasy.